


The Russian Punk

by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Podium Family, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Swearing, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, figure skating, like a whole lot of crying, so much, yuri plisetsky is a good person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:18:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransLucas/pseuds/YouAreTheBrightest234
Summary: Yuri Plistesky is a badass. the Russian Punk. Yuri Plisetsky does not cry and he CERTAINLY does not let Katsudon see if he does.





	The Russian Punk

4th place.

He had missed the podium by that much.

He was so close.

Yuri was shaking as he crumpled the paper in his hands and flung it across the room. He wasn't sure if the shaking was anger or something else.

He was sitting in Victor and Yuuri's apartment, hours after the competition. Rostelecom Cup. **His**  rink.

He tried to calm himself down, but the shaking wouldn't stop. Still furious, he stormed out of the empty living room to his room. He called it his room, but it was really meant to be a guest room. He scoffed at the idea of Victor and Yuuri having someone else in their apartment besides him.

 

Yuuri passed Yuri in the hallway on his way to the kitchen and he noticed the boy's agitated face. The bedroom door slammed and Yuuri decided to give up his quest for tea and see what was up, even though he knew exactly what the problem was.

Yuuri walked up to the door and knocked softly, "Yurio?"

"Go away." A gruff reply.

Yuuri persisted when he noticed shaky breathing follow the answer, "Yurio, can we talk?"

There was a silence and Yuuri figured that was his answer until a small voice pierced the silence, "Sure." Slowly, Yuuri opened the door. 

Yurio was sitting on the floor directly under the window. His knees were to his chest and tears threatened to spill at any moment. Yuuri had never seen him look so vulnerable. Yuuri crept toward him slowly, sitting down in front of him and shutting the door in case Victor arrived home early, "Yurio, talk to me."

There was more silence, "Yuri-"

"Fuck you." Yuri spat, but there was no true malice behind the words. There was anger, but it wasn't at Yuuri.

"Is this about the Rostelecom Cup?" More silence.

"Yurio, you tried your best."

"My best isn't fucking good enough! If my best was good enough, I would've fucking won today, right? But I didn't. I missed the podium by a fucking mile." Yuri shouted, hugging his knees tighter. Yuuri scooted closer, "Yurio, are you okay?"

 

It was then that Yuri noticed his breathing. It matched his heart, which was going a million miles an hour. Yuuri put his hands on Yuuri's arms, rubbing them softly. Yuri was shaking again and he felt like he was choking. 

"Y-Y-" He tried to stutter out, calling for the Japanese skater, who seemed so far away.

"Yuri, you're having a panic attack. Just breathe with me, okay?" Yuuri said in a gentle but firm voice, meeting Yuri's eyes. Yuri shook even harder and Yuuri pulled him in close. It had always helped him, but he wasn't sure how much it would help the young skater.

The only way to find out was to try.

Yuri reluctantly melted into the older man, gripping him like his life depended on it. He sobbed into Yuuri's shirt, not caring how loud or ridiculous he was being. Yuuri simply held him tightly, rubbing his hair like Yuri had seen Victor do to him. His touch was soft and gentle. 

They must've sat like that for hours, until Yuri stopped crying. Even then, Yuri still had his head on Yuuri's chest, while Yuuri ran a comforting hand through Yuuri's hair.

"If I fail at this, I lose everyone." Yuri said, after a long silence. Yuuri shook his head, "Yuri, no matter what happens, you're always going to have Victor and I." Yuri shrugged, "You say that now."

"No, I mean it. We love you, Yuri. You can't do anything to change that." Yuri swore under his breath, jokingly. Yuuri chuckled.

"Hey, and what about Otabek? Because I see the way he looks at you and that kid is head over heels." Yuri smiled at the thought of his Beka.  _His_ Otabek.

"If you fall, I think you have plenty of people to catch you. But, I also think that you're really strong, Yura, and you just had a rough day. Everyone has them. Next competition, you'll bounce back."

Yuri nodded, clutching Yuuri tighter.

"It's late." Yuuri commented.

"I know."

"You should sleep."

"I don't feel like being alone." Yuri said, and Yuuri had never heard him speak more honestly.

So they sat on the couch, watching dumb TV shows and making fun of everything they saw. 

 

It was around midnight when Victor finally made it home. He had stayed out late with Chris and a few other skaters, while Yuuri had offered to take Yuri home. The house was silent, except for the TV. Victor walked over and clicked the TV off. Turning around, he found his boys curled up on the couch. Yuuri was sitting up, leaned back. His glasses sat on the couch next to him, forgotten. Yuri was tucked into a relaxed fetal position, his head on Yuuri's lap. Victor smiled and kissed each of them on the forehead, before turning off the light and slipping off to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> what an awful ending.
> 
> Comment what you thought! :)


End file.
